MAID OF ATHENS.
Maid of Athens, ere we part, give, oh! give me back my heart;
Or, since that has left my breast, keep it now And take the rest;
Hear my vow before I go-my life, my life, I love thee!
By those tresses unconfined, wooed by each Aegean wind;
By those lids, whose jetty fringe kiss thy soft cheek's blooming tinge;
By those wild eyes, like the rose, my life, my life, I love thee!
Maid of Athens, I am gone-think of me, sweet, when alone;
Though I fly to Istamboul, Athens holds my heart and soul.
Can I cease to love thee? Not my life, my life, I love thee!